


Tit for Tat

by fauvistfly



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Bottom Derek Hale, Bottom Stiles Stilinski, M/M, Masturbation, Professor Derek, Smut, TA Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-15
Updated: 2013-12-15
Packaged: 2018-01-04 17:51:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1083934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fauvistfly/pseuds/fauvistfly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek is a professor, and Stiles is his TA. They mostly work well together, but Derek still prefers pen and paper while Stiles embraces modern technology. When Stiles realizes this preference extends even to spank bank material, he decides it’s his job to show him the wonders of online porn. Derek rises to the challenge and counters with his favorite erotica. Who will win? (hint: everyone)</p><p>This was a gift for painfullystoic over at <a href="http://teenwolfholidayexchange.tumblr.com/">Teen Wolf Holiday Exchange</a>. The prompt was for an Academia AU: Stiles is a Teaching Assistant, Derek is a Professor. They have conflicting opinions about something. They try to resolve it by trying to win at sex — but when it comes to sex, everyone’s a winner in the end. I kinda tweaked it a little, but hopefully it still works!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tit for Tat

**Author's Note:**

  * For [theonewiththeeyebrows](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theonewiththeeyebrows/gifts).



> Thank you to [inconvenientbastards](http://inconvenientbastards.tumblr.com) for being the best beta ever (MORE CHEST HEAVING) and for [blueyebetaderekhale](blueyebetaderekhale.tumblr.com) for helping me flesh out the idea in the first place. YOU BOTH ROCK.

When Derek first started teaching, he was all smiles and cheer. He loved working with students, loved his subject matter, loved everything. Unfortunately, a rather conniving student misinterpreted that sunny attitude as interest. Once Kate realized that Derek was smilingly helpful and supportive of everyone equally and was not, in fact, going to give her an A in return for sexual favors, she filed a complaint against him for inappropriate sexual advances. He was officially exonerated, especially once it’d been uncovered that Kate had also done this to other professors, but he never felt that his peers or students fully believed he was innocent. For the rest of year, he felt surrounded by an air of suspicion, which only made him more defensive.

He knew that his looks worked against him, that people assumed he was a cocky asshole who used his attractiveness to manipulate people, but Derek wasn’t always so attractive and hadn’t always garnered that attention; he’d grown up skinny and big-eared. He’d worked hard on proving that he wasn’t just a pretty face and a hot body, but all his efforts proved meaningless once he’d been branded as a professor who didn’t understand boundaries. He ended up leaving the university, an attempt to escape the bad memories of Kate and all her deception, for another one, a smaller and less prestigious institution. Eventually Derek grew to love the place, but still, his defenses and walls were always up. He quickly became known as Prof. GrumpyAss, the Grumpy for his attitude and the Ass for, well, his ass. It was too much to explain why he treated the students so differently from his colleagues—it’s not like he wanted people to know what had happened, even if he had been found innocent. So while Derek was known as Mr. Congeniality among his colleagues in the department, Prof. Hale was decidedly not. His smiles were rare in the classroom, and even his TAs were known to cringe whenever Prof. Hale glared at them, to the point that many had even requested new assignments upon learning they’d be working with him. Derek knew all this, and knew not all students would be like Kate, but the possibility of another student manipulating or even merely misinterpreting his professional interest for personal weighed heavily upon him; he couldn’t let that happen again. He focused on being a clear, knowledgeable professor and decided that being the most approachable professor was simply a label he would never have again. 

***

When Stiles first started his TA gig with Professor Hale—“Just Derek is fine” (and OMG was he ever fine)—he stared a lot. The scowls and furrowed eyebrows of displeasure really didn’t make him any less attractive. He’d heard all the gossip about Prof. GrumpyAss, and in some ways, it took down his ridiculous attractiveness a notch; life would be unfair if the hottest professor were also the nicest. Prof. Hale had the well-deserved reputation of being a hardass—fair and extremely intelligent but intimidating as hell towards students.

The thing is, Prof. Hale really isn’t that intimidating, once you get to know him. And that’s the problem: Stiles does know him. Somewhere between nervously shaking his hand for the first time and the daily arguments they have about teaching and new theories and baseball, Stiles has gotten to know Derek. Yes, Derek. And Derek is completely different from Prof. Hale. He doesn’t know why Derek tries so hard to put up this growly façade because the dude is a fucking cupcake sprinkled in smiles. Stiles isn’t sure what he did to break down the walls (the last TA definitely sent him a condolences email when he found out) but Stiles is thinking that his inability to take bullshit might have something to do with it. It’s ironic, actually, that his tendency to be ridiculously obnoxious as a coping mechanism to intimidating hotness is what ends up breaking down the one thing keeping Stiles from jumping Derek’s bones: namely, his grumpiness. When Derek first smiled, really smiled, Stiles had to blink several times to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating and then had to excuse himself to will his boner away. In fact, he is continually thankful for his sarcasm and his inability to accept things without some kind of argument because without them he would likely be drooling into his papers every time Derek smiles at him.

Somehow, Stiles makes it through the fall semester without doing something stupid like grab Derek by the elbow patches and rub his face all over that thick scruff. He’s about to start his second semester with Prof. Hale, making everyone think that he’s officially lost his mind, himself included. The thing is, though, they’re friends. They are serious, real friends with so much in common, even if those common points spark heated discussions about how different they are. It’s completely unfair, how much they are compatible, so Stiles tries to focus on their differences to avoid drowning in those green eyes that deepen when he wears that one Henley that clings in all the right places. 

One of their biggest differences is their attitudes towards technology. Derek still makes his students sign in and literally handwrite their info on index cards. Of course it’s up to Stiles to transcribe everything. He’d kept quiet about this atrocity the first time around, but having survived a semester with Prof. GrumpyAss and emerged unscathed, Stiles feels confident enough to call Derek out on this shit.

He tosses the pile of index cards onto Derek’s desk, reveling in the way they scatter beneath Derek’s glare. “Seriously, why can’t we have everyone just fill out a form online? That way we wouldn’t be worried about wrong addresses because I can’t read their freaking handwriting.” Stiles pulls up a chair in front of Derek, swings it around to sit on it backwards, and picks up a card randomly to make his point. “Look at this shit! Half the time I have to go find these people and make them email me directly so that I can get their addresses right. We could streamline this whole process if we got rid of the index cards.”

Derek barely looks up at Stiles. “I like seeing their handwriting. It gives me a little something extra about each person. Online forms are so impersonal.” Derek puts down his pen and starts shuffling the cards into a neat pile. “Plus, I like making them write here, in the classroom. I want to know what they can do in front of me, not in front of their computers where they can edit and delete and change all of their ideas before ever submitting them to me.” 

Okay, Stiles can concede that point.

“Plus, you’re the one who has to put in all the email addresses and stuff. So it doesn’t bother me,” Derek says flatly, despite the small smirk on his face, and passes the reorganized pile over to him. 

Stiles takes it back. He cannot concede that point after such an obvious abuse of his skills. He picks up the pile from Derek, goes back to his laptop, and starts typing loudly, even though he knows Derek won’t notice. After trying to decipher the fifth email address that doesn’t clearly show the difference between 0 and O, he mutters, “‘Online forms are so impersonal.’ God, you are so ass-backwards in everything. I bet you don’t even surf for porn online.” He punctuates his remark with a particularly vicious enter. 

Derek snorts without even looking up from his work. “Why do I need to go online for porn? I have books.”

Stiles stops typing and just gapes at Derek, unable to process that reply. Eventually he sputters out, “Are you fucking kidding me? What, you have a collection of etchings?”

Derek rolls his eyes. “Not picture books. I’m not talking about images. I mean well-written erotica. I like reading, you know, since I’m a literature professor.” He sniffs condescendingly before finally making eye contact with Stiles. “I find it more compelling and effective than a crappy webcam and fake moaning.” 

“Oh, so you have surfed for porn.” Stiles abandons his laptop and leans back, ready for a break to dive into this conversation. “And, dude. You are clearly watching the wrong porn.”

Derek doesn’t even react to Stiles’ accusations and without looking up, says, “Of course I’ve watched online porn, Stiles. Contrary to what you like to believe, I do know how to use a computer. I just prefer to hold onto things like books. It’s a choice, not a lack of knowledge.” 

Stiles rolls his eyes. “Okay, then I don’t get it. You’ll have to explain it to me because I don’t understand how you can get off by reading some story and prefer that to watching two dudes having sex.” Stiles startles at his own words and tries to back up a little. “Or a guy and a girl. Or two girls, ‘cause yay hot girls kissing,” he says weakly. He has no idea whether Derek is into guys or girls or both or none, but they’ve never discussed this aspect of their lives. He hopes he hasn’t crossed a line in their tentative friendship, so he does what he always does when he’s nervous: he babbles. “I mean, there’s all kinds of porn out there, no matter what you’re into. There’s straight porn, gay porn, old people porn, animal porn, midget porn, pregnant women porn, twink porn, artsy fartsy porn. You want me to go on? Because I could go on for, like, hours,” Stiles says as he grabs his laptop to go back to entering student info. “Obviously some porn is better than others, but I’ve done enough research to know the best of the best. I could even give you a rec. I could make you a convert to online porn, get you to shut those books and embrace the Internet.”

“For someone getting a degree in English Lit, you have a weird relationship with books,” Derek says with a little smile. Before Stiles can defend himself, Derek adds, “I tend to think that sex between two men is hotter if there’s a build-up to it. I like the tension and the foreplay. You don’t get any of that with porn. It’s just detached, almost clinical fucking.” Derek shrugs as he scans the article he’s reviewing for publication. “I bet I could make you a convert instead, make you get back to your English major roots and fall in love with books all over again.”

“First of all, I don’t hate books, Derek,” Stiles defensively. “I’m just more in tune with the times. I’m not resisting technological advances. I’m embracing them.” Stiles enters the last student’s info and then sets aside his laptop. “Secondly, is this a dare? Are you challenging me to make you a convert? Because I can. I can convert you so hard your wrist is going to be sore from—“

“Okay, stop,” Derek interrupts. “I’m not daring you to do anything. I think you have enough to do without ‘researching’ the best porn out there. If you don’t, I can certainly give you more to do.” He starts reaching into his bag to pull out something guaranteed to take up more time that Stiles has.

“Fine, fine! No need to give me more. Sheesh, it’s like you’ve forgotten what it’s like to be a lowly grad student.” Stiles starts putting his stuff away. “I’ll see you in class on Wednesday?”

“See you then,” Derek says with a wave.

On his way out of the office, Stiles pauses and then says, “Maybe you should check your email later tonight. You know, in case I end up with some free time on my hands.”

Derek doesn’t even look up as he throws his pen cap at Stiles, but he smiles for a long time after Stiles’ laughter floats down the hallway.

***

Derek shakes his head and chuckles to himself when he sees the email from Stiles. He’s not surprised at all and decides that he’ll even forgo his usual bedtime reading for some computer time, just for the sake of ‘research.’ He has very low expectations for the porn, despite Stiles’ exuberant reassurances that his mind, among other things, will be metaphorically blown. If nothing else, they’ll have a good laugh over coffee, and maybe Derek will even extend an invitation to dinner, like he’s been considering for several weeks now. 

It’s been a long time since he’s been intrigued by anyone, and Stiles is definitely piquing his curiosity. When they’d first met, Derek had his usual glowering persona on full force. He knew his reputation, and he had to live up to it. He found that TAs often felt that they would be exempted from his surly attitude, but he’d been hit on far too often to let go of his mask. Stiles had been different from the beginning. He hadn’t been intimidated by him, hadn’t been so cowed that he couldn’t speak, didn’t hit on him, and spoke his mind with confidence and intelligence. As far as he could tell, Stiles treated him much like he treated everyone else, with a fistful of sarcasm and a dash of respect.

It was probably that near indifference that made Derek sit up and take notice. Well, in all honesty, Derek noticed Stiles immediately. It wasn’t merely his appearance, though his lean body, thickly lashed eyes, and lush lips were certainly noteworthy. No, it was more his expressiveness, the way he laughed with his entire body, gesticulated with his long fingers when excited, contorted his face in a million different ways to convey every nuance of his emotions. Yes, he was attracted to Stiles, has been for a while now, but he simply tamped it down out of habit.

Now that they’ve spent an entire semester together, Derek can admit that his attraction goes beyond the physical. He’s always had a weakness for witty banter and intelligent sparring; if someone is comfortable enough in his own skin to argue without getting overly defensive, to show an inquisitive nature simply for the sake of learning, Derek ends up crushing every time. Stiles is his type both in terms of physical appearance and personality. That Stiles seems to be completely unaware of his own attractiveness is another plus; that Stiles seems to be completely impervious to Derek’s own good looks is oddly an asset as well. It’s not that Derek doesn’t know he’s physically appealing; he’s aware, and he’s been hit on enough to know that he is empirically attractive to all kinds of people. In many ways, it’s a deterrent to the kinds of people he likes and a magnet to the kinds of people he doesn’t. Regardless, he’s at the point where he is comfortable admitting that he is attracted to Stiles and might even ask him out, if it’s not too late in their friendship to attempt something deeper.

With all these thoughts swirling around his head, he decides to settle down by watching some mindless porn, conveniently linked by Stiles. He nestles into his pillows, makes sure the volume is up, and clicks play. 

The video starts out with two men chatting openly, laughing and flirting. It’s already different from what he expected, since he’d braced himself for a close-up of anal penetration right from the start. 

He watches as the two men start kissing deeply, lots of tongue, with hands caressing faces and bodies. They don’t seem to be in too much of a rush, and Derek notes that the video is over twenty minutes long. He is already impressed by the quality of the porn; he was expecting a slightly grainy video of asses and dicks, and instead he sees two men in a well-lit apartment, filmed from different angles with smooth transitions. Derek loves kissing, loves the teasing nips and the intimacy of being in someone’s space and learning what provokes those gasps and stuttered breaths. His body starts to heat up, and he shifts a little to give himself easier access in case he gets turned on enough to touch himself. He’s still not convinced, but he’ll be sure to tell Stiles at least how surprised he was at the difference in both the mood and the quality of the porn. 

The kisses start getting filthier, and the hands become more daring. Soon, all the clothes are abandoned, and Derek is watching one guy go down on the other. There’s no cheesy soundtrack, no trite dialogue about sucking cock and liking it. Just two guys in some non-descript apartment, getting aroused by each other and doing something about it. He tries to watch the porn clinically, to compare it to the way he reacts to reading erotica, but Derek is startled by his reaction to the sounds, the moans and the short breaths that hitch and gasp and whimper. It makes his face flush with desire in ways that remind him of his teenage years, face burning with embarrassment at his quick arousal at the smallest things. It’s clear that, for him, the sounds of sex and the noises from the men make this video different from reading erotica. There’s just something so visceral about hearing a groan of arousal, a whimper of desire, and it makes something unfurl deep in his gut. He’s barely ten minutes in, and he is already completely hard and ready for more.

He balances the laptop on one leg and grabs the lube in his nightstand to slick up his hand. He slips his hand inside his pajama bottoms and starts sliding his hand lazily up and down his cock, mimicking the rhythm of the guy giving a blow job. He imagines a mouth on him, lush lips surrounding his dick. Soon, he’s breathing heavily and getting warm, so he strips his pants off and starts to open himself up, one finger at a time. He tries to keep quiet so he can hear the way the other guy reacts to being opened up, sucked and teased while being fingered and readied to fuck. When they finally get down to the fucking, Derek starts riding his hand in a way that he hasn’t done in ages. He curls his fingers and works his wrist, enjoying the burn as he stretches his hole. He thrusts into his fist at the same time, doing his best to match what he sees on screen. He savors the feel of his sweaty skin as he rubs his hand in between his thighs, cupping his balls and rolling them lightly before sliding back up his cock and teasing his head with his thumb. His caresses get rougher and less controlled, and he feels his body tighten with anticipation. He surprises himself when he comes so quickly that he is unable to keep in his harsh groans; he ends up drowning out all other sounds even as he watches the guy come all over the other’s abs. When the video fades to black, Derek pushes his laptop away and collapses completely on his bed, keeping his hands on his chest to avoid getting his bed sticky. He’s so boneless from the orgasm that he has to talk himself into cleaning up, his breath still unsteady and his body still humming. Eventually, he wipes himself up hastily with a tissue and then, after a few more moments of stillness, forces himself to get up and finish cleaning up in the bathroom. When he finally makes it back to his bed, he’s tempted to email Stiles back with some kind of response, but his brain is completely wiped. He shamelessly bookmarks the link, closes the laptop, and then falls into a satisfied sleep. 

***

The next time Derek sees Stiles, he tosses a book his way with a post-it on its cover: “Tit for tat.” He lets himself enjoy the way Stiles’ mouth drops in surprise and briefly wonders what that mouth would look like red and swollen. He blinks away that thought as the rest of his students wander into the classroom and forces himself to get lost in his teaching. 

*** 

Stiles had been nervous about seeing Derek after sending that porn link last night. He knew they were a lot closer now and that Derek could take a joke, but were they close enough to be sharing porn links and talking candidly about sex? He wasn’t sure, and he had almost bitten his nails bloody thinking about it. At most, he had hoped for a laugh and a sarcastic remark about Stiles’ incorrigible obsession with the Internet. Nothing could have prepared him for the book he was now holding in his hand, a book of short stories clearly meant to titillate, a post-it in Derek’s hasty scrawl, taunting him. He tries to keep the flush off his cheeks and slips the book into his bag. He is determined not to get an inappropriate boner in the middle of Derek’s lecture and forces himself to forget about the book until he gets home.

Home ends up being several hours later, and with all the grading and writing workshops and quick trips to the food truck, Stiles is almost able to forget it completely. Almost.

He stumbles into his apartment, throws his bag on his bed, strips down to his boxer briefs and heads to the bathroom to get ready for bed. It’s been such a long day that he wants nothing more than to crawl into bed, fuck around on his iPad before falling asleep. Or perhaps read a book. 

When Stiles finishes brushing his teeth and flops into bed, he immediately pulls out the book—he doesn’t know why he even tried to pretend he wasn’t going to read it tonight. He’s already half hard at the thought of reading something that has aroused Derek, something that might have even gotten Derek to jerk off; that thought alone turns him on.

He finds himself getting into the story, envisioning the characters and how they interact, how they become closer, how their attraction builds and deepens. It’s completely different from porn. Rather than getting an immediate physical reaction, Stiles feels his chest tighten as he reads about those first moments of awareness, of a passing touch and a heated look. He lives each moment with them; his breath catches when a caress lingers, and he licks his lips when a close encounter almost ends in a kiss. The development of their relationship is steady and intense, so when they finally come together in filthy kisses and passionate caresses, Stiles is unsurprised to find himself completely turned on. He holds the book with one hand and slowly touches himself with the other, lazily sliding up and down his cock as he reads the intimately described love scene. Once it’s over, Stiles puts down the book, works his cock just a few times, and comes all over himself. His eyes are shut tight while he holds his dick as it pulses with the last remnants of his orgasm, his breathing still unsteady. When his heartbeat finally slows to its usual rhythm, he grabs a tissue to clean up, turns off the light, and falls asleep immediately.

The next morning Stiles wakes up to something poking him in the stomach. He fumbles around to figure out what it is and pulls out the book from beneath him, slightly bent. His face flushes with the memories of the orgasm and what brought it on.

He barely makes it to class on time. 

*** 

They don’t end up talking about it. Despite the fact that Stiles sends Derek a few more links and receives a few more books, it never comes up. It’s like a secret affair they’re having, something they ignore when they’re physically together but fully embrace when they’re apart.

And yet they’re getting closer. They work well together, discussing students and going over writing lessons. They eat together, laughing over jokes that get incrementally dirtier and yelling profanities at the TV while watching baseball games. They get busier and busier as the semester passes, but there’s still that hidden connection of unspoken late night orgasms that hums between them. 

Derek has gotten so busy that he’s unable to give this connection more than a passing thought. On top of his teaching responsibilities, he’s working on several articles for publication and presenting at a literary conference about two hours away. Stiles, who took care of all the travel arrangements on his behalf, is accompanying him. He is stressed and tense about all the preparations, but he can admit that he’s looking forward to spending time with Stiles outside the classroom once his duties have been completed. They are sharing a hotel room for the entire weekend; anything could happen, right?

***

The day to travel to the conference arrives, and the plan is to meet at the train station. Derek gets there first, and he sees Stiles approach their meeting spot, a large duffel bag in one hand and a phone in the other. He sees Stiles look around, maneuvering through the crowd with ease, and when he finally sees Derek, his face lights up with a large grin. Derek feels his breath hitch in his chest, and he immediately smiles back. Stiles starts walking towards him, and the knowledge that Derek is the reason for the bright smile and the purposeful stride makes his heart thrum with delight. He holds onto that feeling tightly and takes it as a good omen for their weekend together.

Once they settle into their seats on the train, Derek breathes in deeply and exhales slowly, closing his eyes briefly in an attempt to relax. It has been incredibly hectic for the past few weeks, but all those hours have paid off. He’s completely finished his articles, has neatly typed notes for his lecture, and has remembered to pack his toothbrush. He purposely puts his bag in the compartment above and keeps only his iPod to force himself to relax for the two-hour trip.

Stiles nudges him with his elbow from the seat next to his. “Look at you, actually trying to relax.” He grins widely at him and gives him a dorky thumbs up.

Derek shakes his head and snorts while putting in his earbuds. “Trying is the operative word. You don’t mind if I attempt to ignore you, do you?” 

Stiles gasps in mock horror. “How dare you? As if I’m going to spend my time talking to you!” Stiles takes off his jacket and bundles it up into a ball. “I am going to sleep the entire way. I have been looking forward to sleeping on this train for ages. Don’t wake me up till we get there.” Stiles shoves his makeshift pillow against the window and closes his eyes. “You should sleep, too,” he adds softly. “You deserve it.”

Derek looks over fondly, even with the smirk on his face, and takes an extra moment to look at Stiles just because he can. About a half hour into the trip, Stiles’ head falls onto Derek’s shoulder and his hand slumps onto his thigh. Derek pulls an ear bud out and tries to figure out whether Stiles is actually asleep and not playing with him. Hearing Stiles’ steady breathing and noting the heaviness of his head against him, he relaxes a little and tries not to disturb him. Derek resists the urge to cover Stiles’ hand with his own, but he doesn’t attempt to move him away. The sound of Stiles’ sleeping lulls him into a peace far more quickly than his music, and he soon drifts off to sleep, gently leaning into the heat of Stiles’ body.

Derek is startled awake when his pillow moves, which is when he realizes that his pillow is actually Stiles’ head resting on his shoulder. He blinks away his sleep and turns off his iPod before shrugging apologetically to Stiles, who is stretching obscenely. “I guess I dozed off, too.” 

“Yeah, sorry, man. I didn’t mean to fall asleep on your shoulder. I tend to cuddle in my sleep, so I guess it’s good we’re getting separate beds tonight,” he says with a wink, one hand scratching his belly lazily.

Derek snorts and cracks his neck to avoid thinking about the alternative to twin beds or the glimpse of hair trailing down Stiles’ stomach. He checks the time and then grabs his water bottle to take a swig. “It looks like we have about twenty more minutes. You said the hotel is pretty close to the train station?”

Stiles runs his fingers through his hair roughly and rubs the sleep out of his eyes. “Yeah, fairly close. I figured we’d just get a cab, freshen up at the hotel, and then head over to campus.” Stiles keeps blinking in an attempt to wake himself up, and the motion is mesmerizing to Derek. Those eyes in combination with Stiles’ rumpled bed hair is lethal, and Derek blinks his own eyes in an attempt to focus on what he’s saying.

“Yeah,” he says roughly, coughing a little to get the rasp out of his voice. “Sounds good. And if the hotel sucks, I can blame you, right?” Derek says as he bumps him fondly on the shoulder.

Stiles just chuckles weakly in response, his hand running over the flushed cheek that has the imprint of Derek’s shirt on it.

***

When they get inside the hotel room, Derek throws his bag onto the bed on the left and heads straight to the bathroom. Stiles drops his bag to the floor and flops on the other bed, rubbing his face into the pillow and groaning. Stiles had clearly underestimated how strongly he would be affected by spending so much time with Derek. Obviously they spend a lot of time together, but it’s just now hitting him that they will be sharing a room, sleeping in the same space, breathing the same air. Why did he think this would be a good idea? He groans again and curls his knees into his chest, sticking his butt up in the air. He hears the bathroom door open and hears Derek cough awkwardly, but he doesn’t want to move quite yet. 

Derek tries not to swallow his tongue when he sees Stiles on the bed on his knees, his ass taunting him. “Uh, Stiles? Are you okay?” he asks, trying to make his voice sound normal. 

Stiles rolls onto his side and sighs loudly. “Yeah, I’m fine. You know, just checking out the bed. How’s the bathroom?”

Derek opens his bag and starts unpacking. “It’s good. Toilet and everything.”

“So funny, big guy,” Stiles says as he slides off the bed and heads into the bathroom. When he shuts the door inside, he looks at his flushed face and splashes water on his cheeks to cool down. “Stop being an idiot,” he says to his reflection. He quickly finishes up in the bathroom and comes out to see Derek sitting at the table looking over his notes. Stiles almost sighs in relief at the normalcy of what he sees. This, Derek preparing for a lecture, he can handle. He grabs his bag and starts unpacking quickly, tossing things into drawers and putting his toiletries bag into the bathroom. “So, anything I can do for you? I can’t imagine you have anything more to add to your notes, but let me know if I can help at all,” he says as he grabs his own laptop and gets comfortable on his bed.

Derek barely glances up when he replies, “No, I’m good. I’m just looking over the schedule for the weekend. I was planning on going to this evening’s reception, but I want to head over to registration and check things out beforehand. Do you want to come with, or did you want to hang out here?” Derek stands and starts putting on his jacket. 

Stiles closes his laptop and stands as well. “I’ll come with you. I wouldn’t mind walking around just to shake the train off my legs.” He grabs his jacket, wallet, and phone and follows Derek out the door.

They walk briskly to campus and get everything settled with registration. Derek isn’t set to present until tomorrow morning, so they have a few moments to check out the area. They chat about their respective papers, the conference, the weather, the movies, meandering in and out of topics of conversation with ease. By the time they get back to the hotel to get ready for the reception, Stiles is reassured that they are back on course, back to being comfortable colleagues who share lots of interests. 

It isn’t until Derek emerges from the bathroom wearing a suit and tie that Stiles realizes, once again, how screwed he is. 

*** 

The reception isn’t completely boring, and Stiles does his best to network and seem interested in solidifying ties with different universities across the country. Stiles is naturally a good conversationalist, so it’s fairly easy to make small talk and still watch Derek work the crowd like he’s not known on campus as for his glare as much as his body. In fact, Stiles is so intrigued by the disparity that he can’t help but lean in when they sit at their table and murmur, “Excuse me, but have you seen Professor GrumpyAss? I was told he’d be at tonight’s function.”

Derek merely cocks an eyebrow and gives him a wide, fake smile. “You should hear what people call you,” he says as he lifts a glass of wine to his lips.

***

They get back to the hotel room late, both pleasantly buzzed. They chat leisurely while getting ready for bed, but when Stiles finishes up in the bathroom, he comes in to see Derek in pajama pants, sitting in bed and reading a book. “The bathroom’s all yours,” he says, hoping his voice doesn’t betray his arousal. He grabs his laptop and jumps under the covers, hoping that fucking around on facebook and Candy Crush kills any semblance of an erection.

Derek comes out of the bathroom, sits back on his bed, and then gestures with his book in hand. “I guess this is pretty much the difference between us?” Derek says, looking pointedly at Stiles’ laptop.

Stiles’ eyes grow wide, but he quickly says, “Oh yeah. We kids and our tech toys.” He tries to focus on crushing the candies, but the damn chocolate squares keep popping up, threatening to choke him.

Derek just sniffs and says, “Like I’m that much older than you.” He fiddles with the pages of his book before coughing lightly and then saying, “So, did you ever end up reading those books I gave you?”

Stiles freezes at Derek’s question, in disbelief that they’re actually having this conversation. In person. In bed. In the same room. He clears his throat and says, “Of course I did. Wasn’t that my assignment?” He tries for a flippant tone and attempts to get back to his game. He fails at clearing all the jelly. 

“And?” Derek asks, his eyes still on his book.

Stiles glances over at Derek, who seems completely at ease in his flannel pajama bottoms. He sighs inwardly. “They were good, really good. I was very impressed with your selection. A+, Prof. Hale.” He pauses, wondering if he should continue. He bites a fingernail and glances over again before asking, “What about you? Did you watch the links I sent you?”

“I did,” Derek says, putting his book down and looking straight at Stiles. “Hottest porn I’ve ever seen.”

Stiles’ mouth drops in astonishment, both at Derek’s words and at the way he’s caught in Derek’s eyes. “Really?” he murmurs, unable to look away.

“I still love my books, but hearing them moan—it made a difference,” Derek says in a low voice as he moves to sit at the edge of his bed.

“You liked hearing that?” Stiles’ voice catches a little, his eyes roaming all over Derek’s face and body. 

“I did. I’d forgotten how much I like making someone moan with pleasure.” Derek’s gaze is steady, and Stiles can feel himself start to redden under the scrutiny.

He swallows nervously. “Yeah, I can see that. Immediate gratification, knowing you’re bringing someone that much pleasure.” Stiles closes the laptop and turns to face Derek. He moves to the edge of the bed, his knees almost touching Derek’s in the small space between them. “How the focus is just on that physical pleasure, no music or storyline to distract from the sheer magnetism that pulls two bodies together.”

Derek inches forward as well until their legs are slotted together, knees and thighs gently touching. “Exactly,” Derek murmurs quietly, leaning towards Stiles.

When their lips finally touch, they burn. Stiles’ body is already flushed even before they touch, so the sensation of Derek’s scruff rubbing against his cheek and Derek’s hand cupping the back of his neck stokes the flames until he has to break away for breath. Derek merely moves his lips down Stiles’ neck, greedy for more.

“Is this okay?” Derek asks, even as his hands start sneaking up under Stiles’ shirt. “I’m not wrong about all this tension, am I?” 

Stiles pushes his own hands under Derek’s shirt and pulls it off quickly. “Not at all. I am 100% in agreement with you.”

Derek strips Stiles of his t-shirt as he leans forward for more kisses. “Thank fuck,” he moans as their chests slide against each other. They kiss hungrily, and Stiles hums in appreciation at the way Derek easily pulls him into his lap. He runs his hand over Derek’s back, shoulders, arms, eager to touch as much of him as possible. He ends up with his hands in Derek’s hair, gripping his head and deepening each kiss until all he can taste and smell is Derek. He pushes Derek back on to the bed to undress him more and start using his tongue to find all of Derek’s weaknesses—the spot right in the dip of his neck, his left nipple, the hipbone leading right to a thick, gorgeous cock. He spends a little more time on those spots and gets even more aroused by the way Derek pants harder with each lick. 

“You’re right,” Stiles says as he dips into Derek’s navel and starts nuzzling the hair leading down to his thighs. “Hearing those moans is incredibly arousing.” He punctuates that last comment with a nip to his inner thigh as he finishes pulling off Derek’s pants.

“Fuck, Stiles,” Derek breathes out, one hand in Stiles hair and the other grasping the blanket. “That feels amazing.”

Stiles smiles and flicks his tongue at the tip of Derek’s cock and smiles at the sound Derek makes. He lightly sucks that tantalizing hip bone and fondles the hair that thickens as he moves his way down Derek’s body. He pushes his face into the crook of Derek’s thighs, using his hands to spread them wide, and then bites lightly at the muscle that pulls taut at the new position. Derek groans harshly, and the noise goes straight to his own cock, forcing him to grip himself so he doesn’t come right away. He looks up at Derek through his lashes as he takes long licks of his shaft and lightly sucks his balls before returning to tease the head. Derek watches him with hooded eyes, biting at his own lips and gasping with pleasure. Stiles finally takes him completely into his mouth, loving the way Derek grunts and starts gasping his name as Stiles starts sucking faster and harder. He hums and moans as well, enjoying the thickness of Derek’s cock against his tongue. 

Derek can feel his body burning hotter and hotter, so he pulls Stiles up and flips them before he comes. He presses his body on top of Stiles and grinds their cocks together as he kisses him forcefully and sucks on his tongue. “I don’t want to come like that,” he says before kissing him again. Stiles moans at the feel of Derek’s chest hair brushing against him, and he bites down on Derek’s shoulder to muffle his groan. Derek pushes his head away because he wants to hear every noise that comes out of Stiles mouth and says as much before licking into that mouth again. He pulls at Stiles’ lip, lightly biting him before he says, “Be right back.” Stiles laughs at the way Derek’s cock bobs as he moves to get lube out of his bag. He leans back into the pillows and spreads his legs a little, Derek settling in between them when he comes back with lube and condoms. 

He tries not to shout when Derek bends down and takes his cock into his mouth without warning, but the warmth of his mouth and the sweep of his tongue make it impossible not to cry out in pleasure. He props himself up on his elbows and watches as Derek slicks up his fingers, warming them up, and brings them down against his hole, rubbing slightly. Derek takes him in his mouth again, swirling his tongue around his head, and Stiles throws his head back and moans loudly when he feels a finger slide into him. Derek matches the rhythm of his tongue against his slit to the movement of his finger, and Stiles grows louder with each thrust. His noises only spur Derek to go faster, and he soon adds another finger. Stiles feels himself begin to open up more, and Derek’s mouth becomes sloppier until he starts mouthing at his hips and nipping at his thighs while working confident fingers in his ass. Stiles plants his feet on the bed and starts pushing against Derek’s hand and pulls Derek up for a kiss. It feels fantastic, the way Derek’s fingers curl into him while he grinds their cocks together.

After moving together for several moments, Derek pulls away long enough to roll on a condom. Stiles grabs his knees, pulling them towards his chest, and flushes in gratification at the way Derek groans at the sight of his body spread out for his enjoyment. Derek lets his hands roam all over Stiles’ ass and thighs before lining up against Stiles’ hole. He pushes in slowly, moving his hips to inch further into Stiles as his eyes roll back slightly with pleasure. When he bottoms out, Derek braces his hands on either side of Stiles’ head and leans forward for a kiss, sliding their tongues against each other while Stiles clenches around Derek’s cock. The movement makes Derek moan loudly into Stiles’ mouth, making him smile.

“Come on, then,” Stiles says teasingly, his voice slightly breathless. “Let’s make some noise.”

Derek gives him a dirty smile and a hard kiss and then starts rocking into him, slowly at first but then faster and deeper as he pulls out almost completely and then slams back into him. Stiles matches every thrust, not holding back his grunts. “Yes, fuck,” he says, wrapping his legs around Derek and pulling him even closer. He buries his face into Derek’s neck and pulls a little his hair.

Derek keeps pounding into him, his biceps bulging with the effort of holding him above Stiles. He feels those arms start to shake, so Stiles pushes at Derek to make him pull out and lie on his back. He then clambers into his lap and lowers himself onto his cock, gasping out, “Oh, fuck,” once he’s fully astride Derek. 

Derek exhales noisily at the new position. “Fuck yes,” he stammers as he rubs his hands up and down Stiles’ thighs. Stiles then leans forward to put his hands down on Derek’s chest, loving the way his chest hair tickles his palms. He slides his hands down Derek’s arms and then entwines their hands together. He lifts them up above Derek’s head, holding him down, and begins to move. He starts off with long rolls of his hips, loving the way he can feel Derek’s cock deep in him. They both groan at the sensation, their throaty voices echoing through the room. But then he starts moving faster, short thrusts that burst into flares of stimulation and make Stiles almost weep with pleasure. He lets go of Derek’s hands to brace himself against his chest and keep himself steady, leaning forward to kiss him and mouth at his face while bouncing on his dick. The sound of skin slapping skin soon joins the symphony of moans growing louder and deeper. Stiles begins to lose his rhythm and feels himself getting close, ass clenching in anticipation, and Derek moves to grasp Stiles’ cock. Derek starts jerking him quickly to the rhythm of his own cock moving in and out of him, and Stiles suddenly freezes up, lets out a harsh groan, and comes all over Derek’s abs. Derek lets go of Stiles’ cock, bracing his legs and clutching his hips, and thrusts into him a few more times before he follows with his own heady cry of pleasure, his chest heaving with the intensity of the orgasm.

Stiles falls forward, uncaring of the mess he’s leaning against, and tries to steady his heartbeat. “Fuck,” he croaks into Derek’s neck, the skin warm against his wet mouth.

Derek slides his hands up and down Stiles’ sweaty body as he breathes slowly. He catches Stiles’ jaw in his hands and kisses him deeply and slowly before fully collapsing against the pillows, bringing Stiles with him. 

“So does this mean I don’t have to do those index cards?” Stiles murmurs sleepily against Derek’s chest. He smiles when he feels the rumble of Derek’s laughter against his cheek. 

“Not a chance,” says Derek, his fingers fondly running through Stiles’ hair. 

***

Stiles is awakened by the sound of the shower turning on. He blinks slowly, trying to get his bearings, and starts stretching out the lovely soreness of his body. He lies in bed, enjoying the warmth of the blankets, but before long he starts worrying about how he should act when Derek comes out of the bathroom, whether their relationship is going to be awkward now that they’ve slept together. He considers pretending to be asleep, but in the end he decides to face it head on.

The door opens with a burst of steam, and Derek emerges with a towel sitting low on his hips. Stiles tries to smother his whimper at the sight of Derek’s ridiculously toned body, but judging from the small grin on Derek’s face, he doesn’t think he’s successful. 

“You’re awake. Sleep well?” Derek says as he turns his back to Stiles, drops the towel, and begins getting dressed.

Stiles shoves his fist into his mouth to avoid jumping up and shoving his face into Derek’s amazing ass but then realizes that Derek is waiting for a response. He coughs lightly. “Yeah, the sleep of the satisfied. You?”

Derek turns to face him as he finishes buttoning up his shirt. “Absolutely, other than the time you kneed me in the hip and almost pushed me off the bed.” 

Stiles grunts in indignation. “Says the dude whose body heat is—“ his statement is cut off when Derek, suddenly in front of him, kisses him hard and then nips his jaw and lightly bites his ear. Stiles’ morning wood returns immediately, and he’s about to jump up into Derek’s arms when Derek pushes him back with a final kiss to his neck. 

“I want to get out early, make sure everything’s set up for my lecture. I’ll see you then?” Derek asks, his hand trailing down Stiles’ chest and stopping for a caress of his hip bone. 

“You sure you don’t want to stick around a little longer? Maybe have some breakfast in bed?” Stiles says with a waggle of his eyebrow. 

Derek laughs and gives his inner thigh a fond pinch before turning to put his shoes on. “Then I’d never leave.” Derek grabs his bag and opens the door. “See you later,” Derek says with one last glance at Stiles.

“Yeah, I’ll be there, clapping obnoxiously in the back,” Stiles says, curling back into the covers. He watches Derek give him another smile before closing the door. Stiles shoves his face into the pillow and breathes deeply, beaming at the realization that he can still smell Derek. The thought of knowing Derek’s smell oddly makes him laugh, as does how comfortable they are with each other this morning, as if they hadn’t spent the night before tasting each other and making a mess out of the bed. The idea that this developing thing between them could be so simple, so fucking easy, makes him giddy, and he laughs himself hoarse, a stupid grin on his face, before finally rising out of bed and getting ready to go.

***

Despite the mind-blowing sex, Derek and Stiles end up interacting in the way that they always do as the day goes by, arguing over silly things, laughing at stupid jokes, encouraging each other academically. The only difference is that now, Stiles doesn’t have to hold back when he wants to touch Derek’s firm biceps, and Derek can linger when he puts his hand on the back of Stiles’ neck for encouragement. There’s still that humming connection between them; only now, the tautness is because of anticipation rather than unresolved tension. A heated glance now recalls a memory of skin against skin; a lingering touch evokes the taste of foreplay.

In fact, all the little moments throughout the day result in a constant, low buzz of arousal that spikes the moment they return to their hotel after a full day of small talk, lectures, and networking. Stiles wants to push Derek against the door and attack his mouth, but he resists and instead sits on the bed, wanting to let Derek take the lead. He toes off his shoes as Derek putters around the room.

“God, these conferences are exhausting. Is this what I have to look forward to?” Stiles says as he starts to crack his neck and roll his shoulders.

“Depends on what you want to do with your degree.” Derek shrugs as he starts to undress casually, as if they were in some locker room chatting after a game. Stiles tries to get into that mindset and grabs his PJs to do the same, but he can’t help but sneak glances at Derek’s toned abs and broad shoulders. He is disappointed at the platonic feel of this moment, but at least there’s no awkwardness. He stands up to pull his shirt over his head and is about to throw on his sleep shirt when he feels Derek’s body come up behind him, his bare chest pressing against his back. He inhales sharply at the warmth and closes his eyes at the burst of arousal that intensifies as he feels Derek breath against the back of his neck. He lets his head fall back to savor the warmth, and Derek runs his hands slowly up his torso, sliding against his ribs and then moving across his stomach to pull him closer. Stiles turns in Derek’s arm and kisses him thoroughly, the way he’s wanted to all day. It’s slow and probing, and it just stokes the fire that’s been simmering for hours. He feels drunk on the taste of Derek’s tongue and revels in the way Derek moans when he sucks on it. He can feel his skin starting to get raw from Derek’s scruff, but he loves the way it rasps against his face. They make out languidly, reacquainting themselves with the way their bodies slot together, where hands and noses go, which spots cause gasps and whimpers.

Derek pulls away slowly, his thumb swiping against Stiles’ swollen lips. “Hey,” he murmurs. 

Stiles can’t help but smile softly at the gentleness of Derek’s voice. “Hey, yourself,” he says back, his hands making small circles up and down Derek’s back and hips. “Long day.” Stiles begins kissing Derek’s neck and jaw, inching him back towards the bed as he nuzzles the sensitive spot right beneath Derek’s ear. He smiles at the way Derek reacts so vocally, and he pushes him gently down on the bed before covering Derek’s body with his own. “It was like the books you gave me.”

It takes Derek a moment to answer as he sucks on Stiles’ fingers and kisses the palm of his hand. “Which books? What do you mean?” Derek asks distractedly as he starts unbuttoning Stiles’ jeans and pushes them down his hips.

Stiles smiles as he kicks off his own pants and then starts removing Derek’s, his fingers sliding down Derek’s thighs and over his boxer briefs. “What I liked about your books was the build-up. There’s all this tension in the everyday things, the conversations, the glances, the simple touches.” 

Derek watches Stiles as he pulls his underwear up over his hard cock, swearing at the way it jumps when it’s exposed. “The foreplay,” Derek says, lifting up his hips so that Stiles can pull his boxer briefs off completely. “It’s not just in bed.” Derek’s voice is lower, and the hint of hoarseness slides down Stiles’ spine. 

“Exactly,” Stiles says, his own voice deepening as well. “It makes the moment when they come together that much more intense.”

Every moment is slow, unhurried. Stiles slicks up his fingers with lube and rubs them against Derek’s hole while mouthing at Derek’s stubble-covered chin. The roughness against his tongue is delicious, and he presses in a finger while licking and sucking his way down to the hair spread across Derek’s chest. He can feel the fluttering of Derek’s heartbeat, and he feels his own pulse stutter in response. Stiles opens him up little by little, gliding in and out while Derek tightens around his finger and pants loudly. Stiles starts moving around, trying to find all the spots that make Derek gasp with pleasure. He pushes in another finger and drinks in the way Derek’s breath hitches. He kisses him deeply, swallowing more groans as his hand starts to work faster.

“I’m good, I’m good,” Derek huffs as he rocks against Stiles’ hand. He grabs a condom, rips it open, and rolls it onto Stiles’ cock in one swift motion. 

“Wow, you really are good,” Stiles says before kissing him again. He turns Derek onto his stomach and skates his hands up his back and down to his ass. He rests his hands for a moment to enjoy the taut shape of Derek’s asscheeks before spreading them and lining up against Derek’s hole. Slowly, he pushes in and leans forward to drape himself against Derek, bringing their entire bodies flush against each other. Stiles wraps his arms around Derek, feeling every shaky breath that Derek takes. The sensation is exquisite, and Stiles soaks it all in—the way the hair on their thighs rasp against each other, the way Derek’s hard shoulder muscles bunch together, the softness and heat of all that bare skin. He mouths at the tattoo in between Derek’s shoulder blades and breathes in the smell of their bodies touching. Derek lifts his arm up to curl around Stiles’ face, turning his head back to face him and bringing him closer for a kiss as Stiles starts to rock gently into him. They trade long, wet kisses, and Stiles reaches down to slide his hand between the bed and Derek’s cock. He holds him loosely and simply enjoys the way Derek fucks his hand slowly with deep grunts. They move like this for a while, the satisfying slide of their bodies together, the taste of each other’s mouths, the simmering arousal. But soon, it’s not enough.

Stiles starts to pick up speed and eventually pulls out so that he can grasp Derek’s hips and shove him up onto his knees. He’s no longer gentle as he spreads Derek out the way he wants and pushes in once more . He starts pounding into him, snapping his hips and relishing every cry that Derek makes, every slap of skin he hears. He can feel himself getting close, so he pulls out again and makes Derek turn onto his back. “I want to see you,” Stiles says, kissing him filthily before pressing back inside him. “I want to watch you fall apart while I’m inside you,” he says as he rests his forehead against Derek’s, both slick with sweat. He starts thrusting faster as he kisses his face sloppily, pulling at Derek’s lips with his teeth and mouthing his jaw. He feels his orgasm start to build at the base of his spine, so he reaches down to grip Derek and begins jerking him off. When Derek squeezes around him in response, he groans as his balls start drawing up and getting tighter. He swipes the pre-come around the head of Derek’s cock, sucks on his own thumb for a moment before fucking the groove of his head with his thumb. Derek moans even louder, his breaths rough and uneven. “Stiles,” he growls, his eyes clenched shut for a moment before opening to watch Stiles pound into him. “Fuck, Stiles,” he cries out right before he comes into Stiles’ hand. Stiles keeps thrusting, even more aroused by the smell of Derek’s come and the way Derek’s eyes look blown. After a few more deep thrusts, Stiles grits out, “Derek,” tenses up and comes inside him. He gulps for air, his chest heaving, and blinks the sweat out of his eyes as he pulses a few more times. He weakly slaps Derek on the hip with affection before he grips the base of the condom, pulls out slowly, and then collapses onto his back next to Derek with a loud, contented sigh.

“Oh my god,” he wheezes, still trying to regulate his heartbeat. He’s still breathing unevenly as he watches Derek grab some tissues to wipe up the mess on his abs. Derek passes him a tissue, and he rolls off the condom carefully before tossing it into the trash. He sprawls bonelessly onto the bed, legs falling on top of Derek’s.

Derek snorts as he looks over at him and slides his fingers down Stiles’ face, seeing the sleepiness in his eyes. “Maybe try not to kick me this time?”

Stiles just shakes his head. “I can’t even move. How am I going to kick you?”

Derek laughs and pulls Stiles into a kiss. He keeps their hands entwined, his thumb making gentle circles. They fall asleep facing each other, their foreheads almost touching and their breaths mingling. 

*** 

They wake up slowly to the sunlight streaming through the curtains and the occasional sound of the elevator dinging. Neither is eager to move, so they simply stay in each other’s arms, enjoying the peace of the morning.

“Did we even figure out what won? Books or online porn?” Stiles asks sleepily as he looks up at Derek, his chin nuzzling the softness of Derek’s chest hair.

Derek plays with the hair at Stiles’ nape, his eyes barely open. “Let’s just say that they work best together. Often.”

“In many different positions?” Stiles adds with a cock of his eyebrow. 

Derek leans forward to kiss Stiles slowly, their tongues sliding lazily against each other. “Exactly,” he says against Stiles’ mouth. He kisses him once more, gently and sweetly, before pulling him closer into the warmth of the bed.

Eventually they force themselves out of bed, packing haphazardly and kissing intermittently. When they’re finally ready to go, Stiles casts a fond look back at the room before heading towards the elevator.

The bustle of energy in the train station quickly wakes them up, but they settle into their seats soon enough. The lull of the train quickly falls over Stiles, and he is asleep within the first half hour. This time, though, when Stiles’ hand falls against his thigh, Derek doesn’t hesitate to place his hand over it. He smiles when he feels Stiles turn his hand so that their fingers are intertwined. Derek rubs his face against Stiles’ hair and then sleeps for the rest of the trip, warm and content.


End file.
